


the lights will appear

by supersonica



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Beaujester Week, F/F, First Meetings, Fluff, kind of, look idk jester still lives in nicodranas, mild tangled au, not really - Freeform, this want meant to be for beaujester week but ya girl had uni
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 12:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20135620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersonica/pseuds/supersonica
Summary: "—they're all like that! All the old stories have some kind of chance—thing—where the gods intervene or something because it's so important that the girl meets her true love!"The Traveler was silent for a moment, and Jester had to turn back to the bed to actually make sure he hadn't vanished on her. He did that, sometimes, and it was still a little unnerving, even after so many years—an unhelpful reminder that he wasn't quite real in the same way she was."Well," he said eventually, the corners of his mouth curling up in a half-grin, "I don't know about a prince, but I've got an idea."





	the lights will appear

**Author's Note:**

> look, no one said I had to be original
> 
> this is so, so unbetad

“ _ ...and then, before his very eyes, Andea descended down the marble staircase. Every eye in the room suddenly turned to her, drawn unconsciously to her wondrous dark elven beauty, which was on perfect display in her dress of deepest ruby _ —oooh, so she’s not wearing the dress that Ebenezer bought her!” Jester cut herself off, turning to the green cloaked figure on the bed next to her with wide eyes. 

The figure laughed. “Apparently not.”

“Good,” Jester said, nodding once. “Blue would look, like, super weird on her, anyway. I hope he sees, though, that would be  _ so  _ funny.”

“It would, wouldn’t it?”

They were whispering out of habit, even though Marion was hosting a dinner party downstairs and would likely be busy far into the early hours of the morning. These nights were some of Jester’s favourites—sneaking downstairs to watch everyone arrive in the late afternoon, stealing dessert from the kitchens, helping her mother get ready to entertain. 

There would be more and more of them as the days grew shorter, when the wealthier couples of Nicodranas would rather stay inside at night than brave the sharp rains. Dinner parties and private recitals, every weekend of Duscar, right up until New Dawn, the prettiest night of the year. 

Maybe, she hoped, her mother would let her go to one of the parties—in disguise, of course, but even as a maid or a musician, it would be wonderful to see all the finery and the glamour up close. Even from her room, she could hear the light strings and chattering, which would every now and then fade away as a new course was served. 

_ It must be so bright down there _ , she thought.  _ They sound like they’re having so much fun. _

A green elbow nudged her. “Everything okay?”

Jester sighed, rubbing the palm of one hand over her eyes. “Yeah, I just wish we could go downstairs. Like, I love reading with you, but it would be fun to go talk to everyone. I’m twenty, you know? I could totally behave right and everything.”

The Traveler nodded, patting her on one shoulder. His hands always felt a little strange, even through a silk nightgown—something between solid and gas, not quite of this world. “One day you’ll get the chance,” he said, consolingly. “We’re going to have such good adventures, right?”

“Well yeah,” Jester replied, flopping her head back onto the pillow, “but I want to do something fun  _ tonight.  _ But it’s fine, it’s fine, I know why Momma doesn’t want me there, I know, I just—” she paused for a second, “—you know in that one play where the girl is locked up and she’s like, singing to the plants and stuff, and she goes, ‘ _ ooooh when will my life begin _ ?’” Jester clasped her hands together to imitate a woeful young maiden, singing a little off-key.

Her friend snickered. “Yes, I think I remember that one,” he said, smiling at Jester’s theatrics. “You really feel like her?”

“I mean,  _ yeah _ , kind of? I’m just sick of reading about that kind of thing and not ever getting to  _ do  _ it. Like where’s my thief in the night?” Jester sat up again, crossing her arms in front of her and pretending she wasn’t about to smile. “How come no dashing rogues ever sneak into  _ my  _ room and steal me off for an adventure?”

“Jester, I don’t think anyone could steal you away to anything without you breaking their jaw,” the Traveler said, still giggling.

“That’s not the  _ point _ ,” she groaned, slipping off the side of the bed and walking over to the bookshelf on one wall of her room. “Look at all these!  _ She _ ,” Jester pointed to a novel with a dark teal cover, "ran away from home to be with a thief, and  _ she _ ," she gestured to a red backed book, "fell asleep for a hundred years and got woken up by a prince, and  _ she _ rescued her true love from drowning, and  _ she  _ met her true love at a ball she wasn't supposed to go to, and—and—they're all like that! All the old stories have some kind of chance— _ thing _ —where the gods intervene or something because it's so important that the girl meets her true love!"

The Traveler was silent for a moment, and Jester had to turn back to the bed to actually make sure he hadn't vanished on her. He did that, sometimes, and it was still a little unnerving, even after so many years—an unhelpful reminder that he wasn't quite real in the same way she was. 

"Well," he said eventually, the corners of his mouth curling up in a half-grin, "I don't know about a prince, but I've got an idea."

Jester smiled at him, as mischievous as all those years ago when he'd asked her how she felt about pranks. "Yeah?"

"It's more fun if it's a surprise, Jester, so just—" 

And with a snap of his green-clothed fingers, he disappeared, one last word lingering in the air. " _ Wait. _ "

"'Wait'?" Jester repeated, folding her arms and stalking over to sit on the bed. "What am I meant to be waiting fo—"

—and she cut herself off with a shriek as a figure crashed through her bedroom window. 

— 

_ I am never taking another job in Nicodranas _ . 

Beau had sworn, ten minutes earlier, as she scraped her palm on the rough stonework of the Lavish Chateau's southern external walls.  _ And I don't care what Allison says, no more fucking jewellery heists.  _

It should've been a fantastic job. High risk, higher reward, a chance to hit back at the city's elite—everything that made a job worth doing, in Beau's opinion. Break into a hotel-cum-brothel, or whatever this place was, find a particular diamond necklace, break out again. Profit. It was the kind of one-false-move job that really got a girl's blood pumping, and Beau was experienced enough by now not to fall into any of the standard traps these kinds of people were fond of setting up around their places of residence. 

Unfortunately, whoever designed the Lavish Chateau had gone the extra mile, and instead of being able to grapple hook her way onto the rooftop, as she had so successfully done two weeks ago while robbing the Marquis' newest mistress, Beau had been forced to stealth through the shrubbery and climb from the bottom. Which, under normal circumstances, would've been absolutely fine—she was extremely proud of her upper body strength—but this time, it was impossible to know which room her target was in. Every window on the entire building was exactly the goddamn same—no special balcony, no fancy double door windows for the Ruby of the Sea, just a plain old sandstone balcony for everyone. 

And so, Beau was forced to revert to the most basic of all rogue skills: guess and check. 

Hoisting herself up to the top level of balconies, she wiped the sweat off her forehead with the back of her palm. "Okay," she panted, "cool cool cool. It's gotta be one of the ones along here, probably, yeah, so just… pick one and look in. Okay. You've got this."

Of the eight windows along this side of the building, three of them had lights on— _ guests retiring from the party downstairs, maybe? _ —and one of the others had open windows.  _ Not that one, unless the Ruby is an idiot.  _ The one in front of Beau, when she looked through a crack in the blinds, looked like an art room, complete with a paint-splattered work table in the centre.  _ Kinky, I guess?  _

That left the right next to her, and two together on the harbour end of the building. Climbing over the railing of the balcony, Beau reached out with one leg to the next balcony over before pushing the rest of her body weight up and across. She landed on the ledge without issue, knees folded up like a particularly precarious bird.

She tiptoed off the ledge and up against the window, pressing her face to the glass to try and see inside. There was a candle burning, judging by the glow, but Beau couldn't see much more of the room through the delicate lace curtains hung on the other side of the doors. 

It seemed bolted shut, and Beau resigned herself to a solid ten minutes of lock picking before she could get it open, but—hold on—the window just to the side was unlatched, and slightly open. 

If she could just  _ reach _ —Beau stretched her arm out and steadied her hand on the windowsill, slowly leaning her weight onto it and pressed her body against the wall—she could get it open all the— 

_ Oh, fuck.  _

The window swung wide open, and Beau fell through, face first, and everything went dark. 

— 

"...and I  _ will  _ tell my mother, don't you even think I won't, so you better tell me what you're doing here, lady!" 

Jester poked the intruder again, before standing back and readjusting the rope wrapping her to a chair. The girl's eyelashes fluttered for a moment, before she blinked and looked up, frowning.

"Who the fuck are you?" she half-growled, wincing.

Leaning in closer and poking her face, Jester said, "I think  _ you  _ should answer that question first—you broke into  _ my _ bedroom."

The girl's frown deepened. This close, Jester could see the beginnings of a bruise on her forehead, where presumably it had hit the windowsill. She had a split lip as well, and a little trickle of blood dripping from her nose, and the most wonderfully ocean-blue eyes Jester had ever seen. 

Not that Jester was paying attention, obviously. 

"Beau," she said, and it took Jester a moment to realise she was giving her name. "And look, princess, I didn't know it was your bedroom."

_ Princess?  _ "You didn't come here to steal me away in the night to sell to a pirate ship? Or keep me locked in a dungeon until my mother pays ransom?"

Beau stopped struggling against the bindings in favour of staring at Jester, one pierced eyebrow raised. "Look, no offence, but I don't even know who you are. I didn’t mean to… fall… in here, so if you could just untie me, and let me go, we can leave this whole thing go, yeah?”

Well, she  _ could  _ do that, technically. She could let Beau go, and pretend none of this ever happened, and never say a word to anyone. But gods, that would be so  _ boring _ .

“Or,” Jester said, “you could tell me what you were really doing climbing across the balcony, and I won’t scream for a guard.” Smiling, she sat down on the bed so she was facing the other girl, their knees almost touching. She felt nervous, strangely—giddy, almost—at being so close to Beau, at being able to see more clearly the blue collar poking out of her dark cloak, the scars on her bare forearms. 

Beau stared at her for a long few seconds, considering. She didn’t look particularly worried about the threat of guards, at least that Jester could tell—confused, sure, and maybe a little intrigued, but not scared. 

Eventually she cleared her throat and said, “What about a story for a story, huh? You tell me who you are, I’ll tell you what I was doing here.”

Jester beamed. “Sure! But you’re the guest, so you go first.”

“Guest? Shit, I guess I don’t want to know what you do with real prisoners,” Beau said, grinning for a moment before catching herself. It was silly, maybe, but that smile made Jester lose any interest in turning her over. “Okay, well, I guess it’s pretty obvious that I’m a, uh, thief. Professional dispossessioner, whatever you wanna call it. I’m supposed to find a necklace that the lady who runs this place supposedly keeps in her jewellery safe, and hand it off to my boss. I saw your window was open and was just gonna take a peek inside to see if this was the Ruby’s room, but, uh. Didn’t really work.”

_ She’s here to steal from Momma? _

Eyes widening, Jester said, in a voice closer to a whisper than her usual bright chatter, “Wait, you’re here to rob us?”

“ _ Us _ ?” It was Beau’s turn to look a little shocked.

“The Ruby is my mother,” Jester said, leaning back and sitting cross-legged on the bed. “My name’s Jester, but I guess technically it isn’t nice to meet you so, I won’t say that.”

Beau blinked. “Well, fuck.”

— 

That was absolutely, totally, just Beau’s luck, wasn’t it? Of all the windows to crash into, she picked the one belonging to the single person she wouldn’t be able to threaten, bribe, or beg into not handing her over to the guards.

_ Although,  _ she thought _ , if Jester was going to scream for security, she would’ve done it by now. So why—? _

Beau had questions.  _ Many _ questions. And if she could just concentrate on those, instead of staring open-mouthed at Jester, that would be real helpful. But,  _ shit _ , Beau had not expected to run into anyone this pretty tonight, and it was doing her head in a little.

Oh, sure, every professional thief had the occasional fantasy about accidentally breaking into a noblewoman’s bedroom while she was undressing, and being invited for a little romp in the sheet, robbing her blind before she woke up the next morning. Or maybe that was just Beau, but the point is—the  _ point  _ is—

Jester bit her lip and worried the dark blue skin between her teeth—between her  _ fangs _ —and Beau could no longer remember what the point was. 

“Um,” she said, frowning a little. God  _ damn _ , Beau should not be thinking about how charming that expression looked on her. “I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do with you now?”

“You can do whatever you want with me,” Beau replied—and immediately realised what she’d just said. “I mean—like,” she spluttered, as Jester giggled, “I don’t—fuck, shut up, I didn’t mean it  _ that way _ —I don’t care if you hand me in, or whatever, but you could always just—let me go?”

Jester was smiling again, thank the gods. “Well, I  _ could _ , but no one’s supposed to know that I’m the Ruby of the Sea’s daughter—so how would I know you aren’t going to tell anyone?”

"I could… pinky promise?"

Beau tried her best to shrug without giving away that she'd worked one hand free of the rope— _ her  _ rope, it seemed—that tied her wrists. Really, Jester should've knotted them a little harder, but Beau was hardly going to complain. She just had to keep Jester distracted a little longer—and keep her mind focused, which was starting to feel considerably more difficult—and she'd have both of them free, and then she could—what, knock Jester out? Sure, that would go down well. 

"Okay," she tried again, arranging her face in what she hoped was a charming smile. "What if I tell  _ you  _ a secret, and then we call it even and you let me go?"

Jester scrunched her nose up, staring intently into Beau's eyes, and making it extremely difficult not to laugh—this girl was just too fucking cute. 

"Weeeelll, I guess that would work," she said, eventually, cupping her face with her palms and leaning forward. Beau absolutely did not think about how nice her perfume smelled. Not at all. "But it has to be, like, a  _ really good  _ secret, okay? Not like, you skipped out on your bill at the tavern yesterday or whatever."

"Aw, shit, that was gonna be my secret," Beau whined, grinning. 

Jester pouted. "I'm serious! It has to be a good secret!"

Beau sighed, cracking a joint in her neck to cover the movement of her arms as she shifted the other hand out of the bindings, letting her eyes jump to the still-open window behind Jester, just for a second.. "Fine, fine. Okay, a good secret… uh, I could tell you my boss' name? She doesn't want anyone to know that."

"That's no fun," Jester huffed. "I don't care about your boss, I want a secret about  _ you _ ."

Humming, Beau frowned.  _ What could she say that would be good enough for Jester to let her go, but not totally embarrassing or someone else's business?  _

She fell silent for a moment, and then, staring at the point where her knees and Jester’s almost touched, smiled. “Hmm, a secret I’ve never told anyone?” she said, leaning forwards just a little farther than someone with their hands tied could’ve, 

“Ye-eees,” Jester sing-songed, mimicking Beau’s movement.

“I think you’re very beautiful.” With that—and a very dubious wink—Beau jumped from the seat, sidestepping Jester and scrambling for the window. 

Swinging her legs through, Beau was about to throw herself out again when a cold hand clamped down on her shoulder.  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck, I almost had it _ , she thought, trying to twist out of Jester’s strong— _ attractively  _ strong—grip. 

“Wait,” said the other girl, and Beau made the mistake of looking up. Jester didn’t seem angry, for some reason, nor did she look about to call the guards, but she did seem a little—melancholy, maybe? 

Jester’s hand moved from Beau’s shoulder to the back of her neck, and before she could process another thought, chilly, sweet-smelling blue lips were pressing against her cheek. Beau could feel her smiling against her own skin, and, oh, that—that was  _ nice.  _

“Come back and see me some time?” Jester asked, real uncertainty creeping into her voice. 

_ Gods, how could she think I don’t want to come back?  _

“I don’t know,” Beau said, instead of voicing  _ that  _ particularly lesbian thought. “You gonna tie me up again? Or can we just chill?”

Jester laughed, releasing her grip on Beau and causing the thief to nearly fall out the window. “I mean, whichever one you want, Beau. Just—come back, okay?”

“Okay, Jes. But until then, y’know, have a good night and all that.” Beau smiled, impossibly wider, and slipped out the window. 

She pressed herself against the wall for a second, trying to catch breath she hadn’t realised she’d lost and thought about—about—her job? She couldn’t exactly go and steal the Ruby’s necklace, not now—and, shit, she didn’t care. 

God fucking dammit. 

_ This is going to end so badly _ , Beau told herself, climbing onto the roof and carefully as she could, picking her way to the back of the Chateau.  _ You’re going to catch feelings and break your own heart, idiot.  _

_ “Come back, okay?” _

_ …worth it, though.  _

— 

And inside Jester’s bedroom:

“Traveler?”

Nothing, for a few moments, until— 

_ “You’re welcome _ .”


End file.
